Jedi Don't Dream
by Minerva Solo
Summary: NJI, post DJ. Kyp often suffers from nightmares, but recently they've changed, but he's stil just as frightened.


Jedi Don't Dream 

A/N: Kyp has a nightmare that differs from the memories that usually haunt his sleep, but is no less terrifying.

Warnings: NJO Kyp PoV, Post DJ. Occasionally wanders into the sappy and the angsty.

Disclaimers: Kyp isn't mine. I'd look after him and bring him cookies and chocolate and whatever he wanted if he was. He, like everyone else mention in this fic, belongs to George Lucas and his various corporations. I make no money from writing this. 

Jedi aren't supposed to dream.

I'd like to learn that trick. I think people would be astounded at the change in me when I can get more than two hours sleep a night and my waking hours aren't haunted by visions the nightmares leave behind. I don't need the dreams to remind me of that day, of those days. The day my parent's died, the day my brother died, the years I died, night after night.

A dream is just a dream, isn't it? Because last night I didn't have a nightmare, I dreamt something infinitely more terrifying.

In retrospect, I'll keep the dreams. I'd rather not live with the knowledge that that dream was a vision. Merely thinking that terrifies me in ways the Empire never managed.

It's no secret that I'm very affectionate towards Jaina. She's my apprentice, after all, and a very likable young woman. I've seen her go through so much, and perhaps its just vanity, but I like to think I helped her through some of the worst of it. I care for her, though I can't say if she feels the same way about me. I haven't always been particularly nice to her.

Fine, I manipulated her for my own ends. What had to be done had to be done, school girl squeamishness put aside. If I asked her to do the same now, plainly, she'd say yes. To be honest, I wish it wasn't so, but war changes people. Loss changes people. When she lost her brother she lost her principles.

We talked, last night, before I enter into my nightly ritual of sleep, scream, wake, meditate. There's no use trying to sleep if whenever you close your eyes you see fire roaring past and your brother's body turning to ash. I know that I can't have seen it, that it must have been too fast, that he wouldn't even had time to feel pain, but each night he disintegrates slowly, screaming in pain. So Jaina and I talked, and I prolonged the conversation as long as I reasonably could without arousing suspicion. You should be privileged, not even Jaina knows about these nightmares, not even Han or master Skywalker.

So, it's natural I should dream about her, right? Not in a perverted old man way, never! I mean, she's pretty, but I... we… just forget it, okay? I'm a very powerful Jedi, so if you don't stop thinking that I'll rip it right out of your head. You know I've done it before.

This is my twisted psyche we're delving into, so of course, it couldn't be a good dream. The minute I saw her I knew something bad would happen to her. Not through the force, or the way you sometimes just 'know' things in dreams, even when they're completely incorrect, but in a gut sense sort of way. Dread. Heavy and dark and stale, like the air in the mines. A lot of things remind me of those mines.

We were on a mission on Yuuzhan'tar, to assassinate one of the high up Yuuzhan Vong. Wandering through what used to be Coruscant, a strange and alien word. I only know of it what Jacen has told the galaxy, but it felt right. She was wearing Vong armour, made up to look like the Goddess, while I was dressed as a priest. Again, how I knew these disguises were accurate, I can't say, but the dream told me they were.

Shall I keep it short? We managed to get into an inner chamber, but the alarm was sounded. While fighting with the Vong leader I was wounded in the leg, but Jaina managed to kill him by decapitation. I was bursting with pride for her.

I was wounded, we were on a planet populated by Vong and they knew we were there, and what we had done. Didn't have a chance. I don't think the plan even made provision for what would happen if we survived. I don't know. 

We tried to fight our way out. We had no other option. I don't remember fighting, just watching her fight. She was beautiful, a creature of feral grace and lethal splendour. Several of the Vong who could reach her just stood and watched as well. A few even whispered 'Yun-Harla'.

And then one got a punch in. She crumpled like a leaf. I tried to leap to her aid, but my injured leg gave out. I watched them kill her.

You'd think, wouldn't you, that that was the worst bit. The most nightmarish part of the sequence. As bad dreams go, that was tame, for me. I don't know which would be worse: a dream or a vision. Either way, this is something I hoped never to have to confront. It's not that I was completely oblivious, I just kept it away from me, with the hatred and the anger and everything that threatens to drag me into the dark side. Yes, watching her die was exquisitely painful, but it wasn't the worst part of the dream.

No, the worst bit was what I yelled as her life slipped away.

"Jaina, I love you."


End file.
